Trick or Treat
by karate0kat
Summary: Dean needs help on a hunt when Sam gets sick, and Jo’s at a costume party when she gets the call. Oneshot. Dean/Jo


Title: Trick or Treat

Characters: Dean/Jo

Rating: PG-13 for innuendo and mild language

Summary: Dean needs help on a hunt when Sam gets sick, and Jo's at a costume party when she gets the call.

Author's Note: I got the inspiration for this from the episode of Dexter when Rita dresses up for Dexter. It's only loosely inspired, but I wanted to give credit where credit was due. As always, sadly, none of these characters belong to me, that honor goes to Eric Kripke and the CW. No copyright infringement is intended. Thanks to my beta Becky.

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Dean sat on the edge of the motel bed and wondered how long it was going to take for his apparent new hunting partner to arrive. Sam had come down with a nasty case of the flu at the worst possible time, in the middle of a hunt. If the vampire nest they were hunting had been smaller he might have finished the job alone, but there were just too many to risk it, so he'd called Bobby for help. Unfortunately the older hunter was in the middle of a hunt of his own, but after Dean mentioned what town they were in Bobby had told him that he knew of a hunter staying in a town just a short drive away and hung up to call the other hunter before Dean could ask questions. Bobby had called back briefly to say she was on the way and that he was vouching for her dependability and skill but that was all Dean got before he heard the dial tone once again. He knew Bobby was busy on a hunt, but would it have killed him to mention a name?

Dean glanced over at his brother, asleep on the other bed, drugged that way after puking for several hours straight. He was hoping they could get the job done that night so he could concentrate on taking care of Sam. Of course, since it was Halloween that might be difficult. The nest was no doubt out and about looking for snacks amongst all the oblivious people wondering the streets tonight. Thankfully they had a pattern. They never killed outside the nest, preferring to take their victims home with them. That meant Dean and his hunting buddy could stake out the nest and wait for their return instead of running all over town trying to save people when they had no idea where to look. He just hoped whoever was going to show up didn't reek. The last time he'd been on a stakeout with someone other than his father or Sam the guy had smelled like he'd bathed in every type of cologne on the planet mixed together in one unholy scent that seemed to burn nasal hair with every breath. With any luck the female hunter on the way wouldn't have the same obsession with perfume.

It had been only 45 minutes since Dean had called Bobby when there was a knock on the motel door. Dean opened it quickly and his jaw dropped. Jo Harvelle strode into the room, giving Sam a sympathetic glance as she passed him.

"Poor baby," she said into the silence, "being sick is no fun at all." She turned to look at Dean. "So what are we hunting, Bobby was a little light on the details." Dean said nothing. His jaw was still hanging open, words completely failing him. Jo being the hunter Bobby summoned for help was surprising in itself, but that he could have dealt with. What his brain was having problems processing was what Jo was wearing. A black sports bra and short khaki shorts, leaving her entire midriff and most of her legs bare. Her long blonde hair had been slicked back into a ruthlessly tight ponytail then braided, black fingerless leather gloves were on her hands. She had a belt with several knife holsters around her waist, and there were more knives at her ankles. She looked both dangerous and ridiculously sexy. She snapped her fingers in Dean's face, pulling him out of his suddenly lust filled haze and forcing him to finally close his mouth.

"Earth to Dean."

"Uh, sorry, it's just…_what_ are you wearing?" She looked down at herself and made a shocked little noise. When she looked back up at him she was blushing and grinning sheepishly.

"Sorry, I was at a costume party when Bobby called. I completely forgot what I was wearing."

"What are you supposed to be dressed as exactly?"

"Lara Croft? You know, Tomb Raider. It's stupid, but I needed a last minute costume, and I had all the pieces, so…" Dean was staring at her again. It was hard not to. He wondered if her stomach had always been that toned, if her legs had always been that long, and if she was really as good with those knives as he'd heard. "Um…you know, I have a bag in my truck with a change of clothes, I'm going to go grab it."

"Yeah," Dean said, once again having to snap out of a haze. "I'll…um…I'll just…be over here. Sharpening knives. Machete, actually. Um…vampires. We're hunting vampires. So I'm going to…go do that…and you should cover up…with the vampires and them liking skin, er, blood, and…stuff…" He thought he saw Jo's lips twitch in a hint of a smile but she said nothing and walked outside to her vehicle. Dean meanwhile slapped himself in the face and tried to get his hormones in check. He was dangerously close to a repeat of what happened in Philly when Jo had squeezed past him in the walls, and this was not the time for that. If Bobby vouched for her then he trusted her at his back, meaning she needed to be able to trust him at her back, meaning he needed to get his head out of the gutter and focus on the hunt. He closed his eyes and pictured Ellen with an ax in her hand hearing the fantasies about her daughter that had been forming in his head in the last few minutes. The result was suitably terrifying and by the time Jo returned with her bag he thought he had himself under control. She gave him a brief smile on her way to the bathroom, but halfway there she tripped on one of Sam's shoes and dropped her bag when she caught herself on the edge of the bed. She bent over to pick it up and Dean was forced to close his eyes and replay the Ellen scenario as Jo continued on into the bathroom.

This was going to be a long night.

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"Stop it."

"Stop what."

"Drumming your fingers. It's annoying," Jo said slowly, as if she were speaking to a slow child.

"Chill out." Dean went back to drumming his fingers on the wheel of the Impala absentmindedly. Jo closed her eyes and sighed. It was 3 in the morning and they were still waiting for the vampires to return. They were both getting testy. Dean turned to watch Jo as she leaned forward and opened the glove box.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked incredulously when she pulled out his stash of Skittles.

"What does it look like I'm doing genius?" she asked before popping a few of the candies into her mouth.

"Put. Those. Back." She ate a few more.

"Make me."

"You're such a brat," he said exasperated. He turned forward again and waited for a few beats, letting her think he was dropping it. When she too shifted her body forward he lunged. Jo had fast reflexes though; she twisted quickly, shoving the bag behind her back. Dean leaned over further, reaching around her and struggling with her free arm which was attempting to beat him back. They both stopped moving at the same time, becoming fully aware of their positions. Jo had slid down on the seat so far she was practically laying down now. Dean leaned over her, almost on top of her, one arm braced on the seat beside her head. His other hand, which had originally been going for the bag of candy she'd hidden behind her now rested on the small of her back, pulling her towards him just slightly. Their faces were close, their breath intermingling.

Dean couldn't help it; he started picturing her in her Tomb Raider outfit. She'd changed into jeans and a T-shirt with a sensible corduroy jacket, but all he could see was her bare stomach and legs, her ass bending over in those tight shorts. He bent closer to her, their lips nearly touching. She was breathing hard beneath him but the look in her eyes was unreadable. His hand on her back pulled her more firmly to him. Their lips were barely brushing now, just a whisper of a touch that was merely a tease of a kiss.

"Dean?" she whispered, almost inaudible.

"Yeah?" he answered roughly, just as quietly. He looked her in the eye and could see something there, something he couldn't identify. She looked at him as if she wanted to say something, something important, something he wasn't sure he could handle hearing. Then it changed. She shut down, putting a hand on his chest and pushing him back slightly.

"You're leaning on my hair," she said, looking away, and he knew that's not what she had been about to tell him a second ago. He pulled back, the moment between them passing. They each sat back in their seats, adjusting clothing, starring straight ahead and breathing into the awkward silence. He looked over when he heard plastic rustle, and gave a short laugh as she stuffed the Skittles back into the glove compartment. She glanced at him quickly when he chuckled and smiled, biting her lip. They looked at each other for a moment before both burst out laughing.

"What the hell was that," she gasped out.

"It's your fault you know."

"My fault?"

"You and that damn costume you were wearing earlier."

"Oh, that. So you liked that, huh?"

"Hey, I'm a man, I'm straight, and I'm not blind. Those are pretty much the only requirements for appreciating a getup like that. Which is exactly the _point_ of costumes like that."

"Hey, you laugh, but I got to walk around all night armed to the teeth and no one batted an eye. That's not a bad place to be for a hunter." He nodded in acknowledgement and they smiled at each other again before looking back to the house they were supposed to be watching.

"Well, well," Dean said happily as a large truck pulled into the garage and the door closed behind it, "'bout damn time." He glanced at her. "Ready?" She pulled a large knife out of the bag at her feet.

"Hell yes."

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They stumbled back into Sam and Dean's motel room an hour later, tired and beat up but victorious. Dean tossed his weapons bag on the table, planning on cleaning everything before he went to sleep. He glanced at his brother, who appeared to have not moved one inch since they'd left.

"Well," Jo said, and Dean turned to look at her. "I guess if you've no further use of my services, I'll be taking off now."

"And if I say I _do_ still need your services?" He said walking towards her slowly, a smirk on his face.

"That's not the kind of service being offered." She grinned as he backed her into a wall and trapped her there, his arms on either side of her head but not touching her.

"Really? So you're not interested at all? Not even a little bit curious?" He continued to lean into her as he spoke. She leaned forward to meet him, once again their lips almost touching.

"In your dreams Winchester." She ducked under his arms and backing up towards the door, keeping her eyes on him the whole time.

"Oh frequently, I hope." They smiled at each other across the room, both enjoying the game, both knowing it could never really lead anywhere. Jo bit her lip while she looked at him, a sure sign she was contemplating something. He waited.

"Hey Dean?"

"Yeah?" She took awhile to respond.

"Do you…do you ever wonder what it would be like? If we didn't have to be on the move all the time. If it wasn't us fighting a war no one else knows about. I mean, I chose this life and I don't regret that. I could never know what I know and sit idly by. But sometimes I just get so tired, ya know? Of never belonging anywhere. Never getting close to anyone…" Dean looked at her, saw the pain in her eyes, pain he felt too. Sometimes he felt like he and his brother were the only people in the world who understood the burden of being a hunter; understood just how bad things could get, how much it could weigh on a person. But he looked in Jo's eyes and knew that they weren't alone. She knew too.

"Yeah," he said at length, "I wonder. And like I said, I hope I get to dream." She smiled at him.

"See ya around Dean," she said, opening the door.

"See ya around Jo," he echoed. Then she was gone and Dean was left to take care of his brother.

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It was several months later when he heard from her again. It wasn't a phone call, an email, or even a face to face meeting. It was an envelope from Bobby.

"Gave it to me months ago and told me it was your Christmas present. Wasn't sure where you'd be by now so she couldn't send it, and she didn't trust you not to open it before now. Told me to tell you to open it in private."

Dean had retreated to the Impala's front seat while Sam and Bobby continued to talk about some boring book Dean had no interest in. He tore open the envelope quickly, curiosity pumping through his body. Inside was a photograph, and when Dean saw it he started laughing. It was Jo, in her Tomb Raider outfit, hip cocked and pointing a gun at the camera, a sexy smirk on her face. He turned the photo and read the note she'd written on the back.

_Merry Christmas Dean, use this for whatever gross male purposes you want. Just remember, my mother always knows everything._

_-Jo_

Dean laughed again, and still smiling he stuck the photo in his wallet for safe keeping. He had a feeling he would have sweet dreams tonight.


End file.
